Invicta
by Effervescent Dreamer
Summary: It takes courage to fight your inner demons and to learn how to fly again. AU
1. Chapter 1

Invicta

_Invicta: Derived from the word "Invict" meaning Invincible; unconquerable._

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I don't own Batman.

It was the year nineteen eighty-seven and Gotham City was holding its try outs for the gymnastics branch of Team USA. Those who made it onto the team were headed for the following summer to Berlin where the nineteen eighty-eight Olympics were being held. Eighteen year old Barbara Gordon pulled herself out of a graceful pose, stretching her legs, standing precariously on the balance beam. She sauntered over to the end of the beam before racing across, doing a somersault as her dismount and landing perfectly on the map.

Smiling at the crowd, she reveled in the thunderous applause, darting over to the sidelines, Barbara could hardly hear the words of praise and encouragement her coach was showering her with. Grabbing the towel from her spot on the bench, Barbara plopped down in her seat, her legs muscles cooling the fire from within. She listened to her emcee announce her scores: 9.7, 9.5, 9.5, 9.4, 8.7 and 7.9. She cringed inwardly at that last score. She pushed herself to be the best, no matter what. Both on the balance beam and off. As the music started up again, Barbara and practically the rest of Gotham watched with bated breath as her rival Gemma Lockwood walked over to the balance beam.

Barbara's heart began to sink. So far Gemma's routine proved to be flawless. It would be Gemma who would have the opportunity to go to Berlin and participate in the Olympics, not her. She looked at the towel she held limply in her lap. She tried to be optimistic. '_Well at least there's always that scholarship to Jump City University. Four years of fun in the sun while studying forensics.' _A small smirk graced her face. _'And with being three hours away plus many many _miles _away from Dad, I can be a cop or detective without much grief.'_

A resonating gasp from the crowd ripped the crest-fallen red-head from her thoughts. She jerked her head up in time to see Gemma swing her legs onto the balance beam. Had she fallen? Barbara's eyes flickered over to the giant screen showing the slow replay. Indeed, Gemma's ankle had bent, causing her body to overbalance and topple to the floor. Barbara thought she saw Gemma wince, but the gymnast managed to cover it up with a look of concentration as she moved fluidly back onto the equipment. As Gemma continued to perform, her routine became uneven and wobbly. Eventually she forced herself to dismount, the song just barely ending. A dark look crossed her face as she stalked over to the sidelines and sat on the bench a good thirty feet from Barbara's.

The gymnasium was alive with such a loud buzz of talking that it was reminiscent of the hum of an airplane engine. Everyone was most likely talking about Gemma's fall. Out of the corner of her eye, Barbara saw Gemma scowling, annoyed as she tried to shove off the paramedics insisting that she was fine. A tapping sound of a finger on a microphone followed by a high pitched mechanical wail echoed through the gym. Immediately the audience fell silent, everyone grimacing from the sound.

The announcer's voice crackled over the loudspeaker. "The scores for Gemma Johnson are 8.2, 8.2, 8.1, 7.8, 7.4 and 6.2." Barbara's heart went into automatic double time. Her own scores were much higher than Gemma's. She looked to the score board and saw her name in bright white lights at the top of the list. The damp towel was twisted in a death grip as reality hit her. She'd made it. Barbara Gordon was headed for the Olympics.

* * *

Café de Lune was alive with a much softer buzz in comparison to the Gotham City arena. Barbara found herself surrounded by her father, best friend Pamela Isely, CEO of Wayne Industries Bruce Wayne, his adopted son Dick Grayson and Dick's girlfriend Kori Anders. Both Barbara and Pamela watched as Dick whispered sweet nothings into Kori's ear making her blush. Pamela nudged Barbara before smirking at the couple and calling out teasingly, "Dick just propose to her already!"

Barbara laughed before adding, "Yeah, I wanna be a bridesmaid Kori!" Said girl turned as red as her ruby locks. Dick shot both teenage girls a glare.

"So when will you two stop being old maids?" He shot back.

Before either girl could come up with a snarky retort, Barbara's father Commissioner Gordon cut in gently, "Now girls ease up on the teasing. Tonight we're here to celebrate Barb's victory on making it to the Olympics not acting like we're in Kindergarten." Barbara rolled her eyes but ceased the teasing. Instead she listened to Pamela make another impassioned speech about the ozone layer and how the industries and monstrous corporate world put the vegetation of the earth in jeopardy. Once again Commissioner Gordon cut in, raising his champagne glass.

"To my daughter Barbara, for making it onto the Olympics teams. Go and explore Berlin, start discovering your life's path and win that gold!"

Barbara blushed and ducked her head at the cheers, idly wrapping a piece of her shoulder-length crimson hair around her finger.

* * *

"C'mon Barb," Commissioner Gordon pulled out the keys to his sedan. Barbara started to climb into the passenger's side when a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned and saw the unmistakable gleam of mischief in Pamela's evergreen eyes. Barbara wondered briefly if she peered any harder would she see the actual gears in her friend's mind brewing up all sorts of plans of nighttime mischief for them to get into.

"Would you rather go home and watch boring old black and white documentaries on a beat up of hunk of junk your old man calls a television set or would you rather go out and paint the town _red_?" Pamela whispered. Barbara fought a smile against her friend's weak insult toward her father, quickly pulled by the lure of escaping boredom and spending a night in the city underneath a sky that sizzled with stars.

She looked back at her father, leaned halfway into the car and said, "Hey Dad, it's such a nice night out, Pamela and I are going to walk home okay?" Commissioner Gordon frowned. He never really liked Pamela Isely nor did he trust the other red-headed girl. She had a flair of dancing around the rules and tripping the boundaries drawn by the law. Pamela had more experiences with juvie than any other teenager in Gotham Gordon had known. It was admirable, her passion for protecting Mother Nature from over development, however, Commissioner Gordon had never seen her fight in a more negotiable, practical way. He looked his daughter, the spitting image of his late wife in the eye and said, "If there's any trouble I want you to call me right away, understand?"

As Barbara started to nod, Pamela peeked her head in. "Don't worry your head off Commish," she said casually swinging an arm around Barbara's shoulders. "Babs here is in good hands."

Barbara grinned, "Don't worry Dad, I'll call around eleven to check in, alright?" Commissioner Gordon looked at both girls for a moment before nodding.

"Eleven o'clock, _sharp_," he clarified. Barbara leaned away from the car and agreed. When the car door was shut and her father drove away, Barbara was spun around, blue eyes immediately dazzled by the city lights of Gotham.

"Okay, Kiddo," Pamela said. "The night is young, let's go see when kind of messes…" she paused then continued in a sugary sweet voice, "I mean, _good clean fun _we can get ourselves into." Barbara laughed as the two friends began to stroll away from the restaurant.

* * *

Club Savant was filled with adults moving to the pulse pounding beat. Barbara bit her lip as she and Pamela waited to get in. She leaned in and whispered to her friend, "Are you sure you can get us in?"

Pamela rolled her eyes and whispered back, "Quit being such a Morning Glory and leave it to me."

Barbara smirked, "Drop the flower puns and I will." Pamela scowled at her briefly before sauntering over to two men both around their early twenties. They were tall, with broad muscular chests. One of them had unruly black hair while the other one had a mop of sandy blonde. Both had piercing blue eyes.

"Well _hello_," the daring red-head purred. She caught the eyes of the brunette. Her voice took on a soft, sweet voice filled with innocence and sadness tainted slightly by seduction. "My best friend and I are spending a night on the town and we're just so bored and _lonely._" She ran a hand up his chest, a slim finger idly twirling red hair. "Would you and your friend please keep us company?" Pamela had him ensnared within her entrancing emerald gaze, he found himself with no desire to refuse the strange vixen. Just to be safe and seal the deal, Pamela stood on her toes and softly placed her lips against his, pulling away after a few seconds.

"O-o-k-kay…." the man stammered. He became putty in her hands. "We'll keep you company." Pamela glanced past him and winked at Barbara, beckoning her over. Barbara smothered a laugh. Pam always had a knack for enchanting people, something Barbara herself felt that she was too much of a goody-goody to try.

She walked over to Pamela and their two "companions". Once inside the club, she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at her best friend's shameless flirting with the black-haired male whose name quickly slipped her mind. She faced the sandy-blond, the look in his eyes telling her he wanted to be there as much as she did.

Barbara sighed as the bouncer moved aside the rope to let them into the club. _'And so the endless night of utter boredom and pathetic pick-up lines begins.' _Barbara wondered why she let her best friend drag her to Club Savant in the first place. She wasn't much of a flirt, and guys' desperate attempts to "get a girl" annoyed her to no end. Barbara didn't drink either, seeing how it was illegal for her and she knew of the side effects if she overindulged. Besides, she could dance any time and didn't need to be up against a mass of bodies to move so much as a limb.

She went off to slouch against a wall, hoping the night would pass by quickly and she could go home. She watched the blond boy sidle up to the bar, a carefree smile alighting his face upon seeing the female bartender. She stared at the walls, the pulsing music setting the beat for the colorful lights. She smirked as she let the beat settle over her, highly doubting that her coach would let her use this music for her mat routine. A tap on her shoulder caused her to jump, inwardly chagrining a bit for losing herself in her thoughts. She turned to see the sandy blond haired guy had returned from the bar and was now leaning against the wall and looking at her.

She sighed, not one for much small talk or flirtations and said, "Can I help you?"

"Just wondering why you bothered to crash the club scene if you're standing here brooding," he said casually. A look of mock horror crossed his green eyes. "Don't tell me you're one of those goody goodies whose phone is itching to either call Daddy or her so called 'macho' star quarterback boyfriend to come rescue her."

Barbara laughed. She turned to fully look at him. "First of all, those 'macho' star quarterbacks couldn't keep up with me on an intellectual or emotional level. Second of all, do I _look_ like a cheerleader to you? And third of all," she added in an extra sugary voice, "I won't tell your daddy if you won't tell mine."

The guy snickered. "Do you realize how many clichés were in that statement of yours? I mean, I was a quarterback in high school and my grade point average was three point eight thank you very much. And another thing, my best friend was the head cheerleader and her boyfriend, now fiancé was on the mathletes team." He paused. "So let me guess, your little flirty friend over there dragged you here just like my friend did right?"

Barbara grimaced and nodded. "I guess you can say I'm 'Miss Anti-Socialite."

"Does Miss Anti-Socialite' have a name?"

"It's Barbara," she answered. She then arched an eyebrow. "But then why bother telling you?" She began circling him like a vulture. "I doubt we'll see each other after this. Even if we did get sloppily drunk, stumbled back to your place and slept together, something tells me we still wouldn't see each other so names are just bothersome."

The guy burst out laughing. "Well, _Barbara_. I hate to break it to you, but that wasn't my plan, I just wanted to know your name. I'm the designated driver so I can't get hammered. Though I wouldn't be surprised if my brother brought home a wasted bimbo anyway. And something tells me that because of what you just said you've either seen too many soap operas or you're seriously jaded. Which is it?"

Barbara grinned. "A bit of both, I guess. Besides, do you really want to wake up with the barrel of my father's gun in your face?" He paled slightly. "I didn't think so. And what is _your _name, O wise one?"

"It's Jason."

"And my name is Pamela!" Both Barbara and Jason jumped as the red-head casually slung an arm around her best friend's neck. She looked Jason in the eye and said, "Babs here had a wonderful time flirting with you. Don't call her, she call you." She winked at the now startled boy and towed Barbara towards the bar.

"I wasn't flirting," Barbara said. "We were talking."

"You were flirting," Pamela affirmed. "Either way, talking or flirting, I think that's the longest conversation with a guy you've ever had."

"And how would _you_ know?" Barbara asked cheekily. "Perhaps I just don't tell you everything about my social life."

Pam mocked gasped. "What is this? The fabulous Red duo going their separate ways?"

"Never Pam," Barbara quickly added, "So I guess you grew tired of your tool?"

"Ah, I danced with at least five other guys," she settled onto a barstool. "And maybe a girl."

Barbara threw her a doubtful look. "There's no way the guys would let you get away from them."

Pamela chuckled. "True true." She signaled the bar tender. "One scotch on the rocks for me and one rum with Coke for my friend here please."

"Pam!" Barbara hissed one the bartender was out of earshot. "We can't drink! We're not legal!"

Her friend rolled her eyes. "Fortunately, this club isn't too keen on rule following, and I can hold my liquor quite nicely. Come on Babs, live a little and take a risk! I won't let anything happen to you."

Barbara bit her lip as she looked warily at the drink that was placed in front of her. She glanced at Pam out of the corner of her eye. "There's no way the Olympic committee could find out about this, right?"

"Are they doing drug tests within the next twenty four hours?" Barbara shook her head.

Pamela scanned the area. "I don't see any camera shots so I think Gotham's little Girl Scout is in the clear."

Barbara rolled her eyes and sipped at her drink. She grimaced, but wanting to prove that she was bold, drank more. Within seconds she had completely thrown back her drink and showed Pamela she couldn't hold her liquor for she had bounced over to Jason was and dancing with her body extremely close to his. How very un-Barbara like. She noticed Jason was being careful not to overstep his boundaries. _Huh, who knew there were gentlemen in an atmosphere like this? _Then she thought dryly, _Either he is truly that genuine or my best friend '_just happened' _to mention her father's line of work or that he at least owns a firearm. _She watched the two dance for a few more fast paced numbers before noting that the clock above the entrance read 11:45 pm. Muttering a stream of curses under her breath, Pamela hopped off the barstool and ventured off to find a pay phone while trying to keep an eye on Barbara.

Stuffing as many coins as she could into the pay phone, Pamela quickly rattled off an excuse to an irate Commissioner Gordon that she and Barbara had gone to see a movie and became so engrossed in the plot that they forgot about the time. When he wanted to speak to Barbara, Pamela hastily said that she was in the bathroom at the moment but would be home within the hour. She slammed the receiver onto the hook and muttered that the Commissioner needed to "take a pill."

Pamela sidled her way through the crowd to the still dancing Jason and Barbara. She realized that a slow song was being played as she noted the two swaying the way a couple would. Sighing, Pamela put a hand on Jason's arm and said, "Sorry Romeo, but it's time for me to take Daddy's Little Princess home before he puts together the pieces of my lie and busts this scene."

"Do you need a ride home?" Jason asked, a little disappointed to let Barbara go.

"Nah," Pamela replied. "I've got my own set of wheels." She quickly flashed a set of keys before gently removing her friend's elbow from his grasp. She then steered Barbara toward the exit as fast as she could.

* * *

"You don't have a car," Barbara accused woozily as the two walked through the parking lot. Pamela hoped her accusation meant that Barbara was regaining some of her coherency and would appear sober to her father's piercing eyes.

"Of course I don't," Pamela said nonchalantly. "I relieved one of my dancing partners of his keys knowing both of us were strapped for cash and couldn't get a taxi."

"Jason would've given us a ride home," Barbara pointed out.

Pamela snorted. "Tch. Translation, I would've been driving and the two of you would've been making out heavily in the backseat." She moaned lightly then said in a falsetto. "Oh Jason!"

A beat. "Maybe. And I don't sound like that."

Pamela snickered as she guided Barbara over to a slightly rusted and dented pick up truck.

"How do you know this car is his?" Barbara asked as she hopped into the passenger seat and shut the door.

The other red head rolled her eyes. "The guy was pretty much crooning to me all of the 'fun' we could have in his 'baby'." She looked about ready to gag as she finished her sentence. She saw Barbara fumbling with the seatbelt and helped her lock it into place. "Now don't worry your pretty little head about a thing. We'll be home before Daddy dearest can reach his cruiser."

She gunned the engine and smoothly peeled out of the parking lot. Five minutes into the ride toward the Gordon residence, Barbara had a hand clamped over her mouth and was looking pale. "Want me to pull over?" Pamela asked. Barbara shook her head, but placed her other hand over her mouth as well. Pamela frowned and flipped the turn signal, but Barbara was adamant.

"No, just get me home please." She took a deep breath and asked shakily, "H-how do you plan on my father not noticing our 'hot' ride?"

Pamela shrugged, "I'll park this bucket of bolts a few blocks away and walk with you the rest of the way, no big deal."

It was silent in the car until Barbara's alcoholic persona came surging back with a vengeance. She ripped off her top and rolled down the window, whooping as she flung it onto the face of a man, laughing hysterically as his ticked off girlfriend began cursing her out.

"And here I thought you were sobering up," Pamela groaned as Barbara ducked her head back inside the truck. Barbara's snickers intensified as Pamela sighed.

Pamela briefly closed her eyes and shook her head. When her emerald eyes flickered back up to the traffic ahead of them, she saw the light at the intersection go from green to red, hardly pausing on yellow. "Oh no!" She exclaimed, slamming on the break. The truck still sped at close to forty miles an hour, slightly above the speed limit. Panic began to fill her senses as she continued to pound on the brake with no change in velocity. "Fuck! This thing is jammed!" Her eyes went wide with horror as the truck suddenly glanced off the bumper of a taxi and began spinning beyond the intersection.

Barbara herself was slammed back into sobriety as the car spun into the darkness. She gasped as blinding headlights came into her field of vision. "PAMELA!!!" She screamed. Her best friend was too stunned to speak, the only sounds reaching her ears was the shriek of rubber ripping through blacktop. Within seconds it was followed by shattering glass and the sick crunch of metal crumpling metal.

Darkness.

* * *

Whoa, this felt intense. To me, anyway. Yeah, I know they seem out of character, I'll work on that. Advice is welcome. More disclaimers: I don't own the Girl Scouts or the Coke brand. I sure don't own any rum. And no, the owner of Pam's "hot" car is NOT Cyborg from Teen Titans, which I do not own, but rather he is some random drunken perv. Yes, I know I stuck Kory aka Starfire from Teen Titans and she technically doesn't belong in this universe, but go with it please.

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	2. Grounded

Invicta

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman, just this story.

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Chapter 2: Grounded

_Gotham City, 2003_

"Straighten those limbs! Straighten those limbs!" Barked the irate voice of one thirty-five year old Barbara Gordon. "Is there a fire in your muscles? You're not reaching your fullest potential if there is no fire in your legs! Come on Melendez! Work!" The poor teenager who was taking the heat from Barbara lost her grip on the uneven bar and fell to the blue mat. Ariana Melendez moved into a sitting position, keeping her head bowed, hiding the hot tears the pricked her eyes from her coach's ice blue gaze.

Barbara gripped the arms of her wheelchair, trying to keep her temper in check. She had already lost five students due to her notorious attitude and she wasn't about to lose another, no matter how awful their working relationship was. Heaving a sigh, Barbara blew a piece of scarlet hair out of her face and wheeled herself over to the crestfallen Ariana. "Get up Melendez," she called. "Restart the routine, that was a disaster." She started to wheel away when a quiet voice stopped her.

"No." Barbara turned back to the young gymnast. "Excuse me?" She asked incredulously. Ariana looked up at the older woman, the beginnings of a steady fire in her liquid brown eyes. "No. I will not start over. In fact, I'm leaving. I am sick and tired of you screaming at me all of the time. I work my ass off day in and day out on this routine and not once have you given me an ounce of respect!"

"I will give you respect when you have earned it," Barbara shot back. "And believe me, little girl, you haven't earned it. You will certainly not earn it if you keep talking back to me."

"Respect is a two-way street coach!" Ariana snapped before leaping to her feet and storming out of the arena.

Even though she was seething on the surface, Barbara inwardly sighed. _"Damn, another student lost. There's no way I can pay rent this month."_ She raked her fingers through her shoulder-length red hair and gripped it as a wave of frustration washed over her. She forced herself to breathe deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to reign in her irritation.

Once her nerves were settled, Barbara wheeled herself into her office, the door automatically opening and closing behind her. She placed her elbows on her desk, resting her chin on her fingers, meditating on what to do. Her eyes fell on a picture frame. It was a school photograph of Pamela. Her smile was a carefree smirk while her twinkling emerald eyes radiated mischief and mirth.

Barbara smiled ruefully. _Oh, Red, if only we hadn't been so careless_. She could easily imagine Pamela scoffing and rolling her eyes at her.

"_Ah, come on Red!" _Pam would say. _"How many times do I have to tell you to stop being such a Morning Glory? Do you really think I regret dying? That Pan kid is right. 'To die is an awfully big adventure.'_"

Barbara chuckled, a rare thing for her to do anymore. She closed her eyes and yielded to the memories that started to flow around her.

* * *

"_Barbara? Barbara can you hear me?"_

_Barbara groaned, wanting the unfamiliar voice to go away. She shifted and mumbled, "Just five more minutes Dad," her voice became slurred. "M'kay?" _

"_Barbara, honey, you're not at home, you're in the hospital." Barbara frowned as she focused on the voice of her father and compared it to the clipped and professional sounding voice that had spoken not too long ago. She then listened to her father's words. Hospital? She forced her eyes open and saw the blurred outlines of her dad and what appeared to be a doctor at his side. "Dad?" She asked groggily. "Why am I in the hospital? Wh…what happened?"_

_As her vision cleared, Barbara gasped. Her father's posture was hunched, his shoulders stooped. The lines in his face deepened, making him seem older, the gray in his hair much more apparent. Exhaustion hung off of his frame. To the hospitalized teenager, her father looked like he was a stranger. As he spoke, relief filtered through his voice, "Barb, I'm so glad you're awake." His throat became thick with emotion. "I'm so glad."_

_Confusion still plastered on her face, she managed a weak smile before turning to the doctor. She repeated her question. The doctor looked grim. "Well young lady, you were in a devastating car crash. The vehicle was totaled. You've been in a coma for three weeks."_

_Barbara looked horrified. She made to bolt upright, her instinct toward such a trauma. She found however that she couldn't. Feeling terror creep over her, Barbara focused on her body. Her head and torso ached, but her waist…..it was if she had become a pencil sketch and someone came along with a giant erased and rubbed away…._

_Oh, God._

_Eyes wild with fear, she looked at the doctor and whispered, "Why can't I feel my legs?" _

_The doctor became sympathetic. "There was severe damage done to your spinal cord when the paramedics and firemen pulled you out of the wreckage. I'm sorry to tell you this, but you're paralyzed from the waist down I'm afraid you won't be competing in the Olympics Miss Gordon."_

_Barbara's throat went dry. She wouldn't be able to compete let alone _move_? Well, _walk_, she supposed. She could barely fathom the harsh reality that was in front of her eyes when she croaked, "And what about Pam? Where is Pamela Isely's room located?"_

_This time it was her father who spoke, "Oh Barb, I'm so sorry."_

_Barbara went blank, retreating inside herself. Forget considering being paralyzed as harsh reality. She barely heard her father utter the words, "Pam is dead." She didn't want to hear them. She wanted to scream, cover her hands over her ears and thrash around like a child with a temper tantrum. She wanted to make the words dissolve, throw them away. Just keep those ugly, cruel words away from her. Pam and dead did not belong in the same sentence. Not now, it was just too soon. Barbara didn't react, instead she felt as if the atmosphere alone was pressing down on her, crushing her. _

_In the safety of her own mind Barbara let out a bloodcurdling scream._

_

* * *

_

_Barbara opened her eyes. No longer was she the grieving eighteen year old apparition of the past but the guilt ridden, grieving, embittered thirty-five year old of the present. Sorry to be such a Morning Glory Pam, but I still think what happened was so stupid. I think this because I miss you. _

_Raising her gaze to the ceiling she thought, I guess somehow I'm channeling a bit of your behavior. Only, instead of being angry over the jeopardizing of the planet's flora, I'm angry over kids who can't tell the difference between dismount and tumble. I guess I should give up trying to live vicariously through my students since my temper isn't helping at all._

Gathering her coat and purse, Barbara wheeled herself out of the office and gymnasium and into the parking lot. Surprisingly, she glided through traffic and found herself home a lot sooner than predicted.

"Hey Barb," Jim Gordon, retired commissioner greeted his daughter when he heard the apartment door swing open.

"Hi, Dad."

"You sound tired," Jim speculated. "Kids giving you a hard time?"

"One of them just quit on me." Barbara rubbed her hands over her face.

"You lost another student? C'mon Barbara, you know you need to ease up on those kids."

"I know, I know," Barbara sighed. "You and Zee keep telling me the same thing."

"Well, Doctor Zatara does make a good point."

Barbara nodded. "Once again I'm sorry. Maybe I'll take up that anger management course like Zee suggested." As she began to roll towards the kitchen to start dinner, there was a knock at the door.

"Stay where you are Dad, I'll get it."

She opened the door a crack to see her visitor, when she saw who it was, surprise colored her face and voice.

"Dick?"

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Wow, I haven't updated this in a while. Sorry, school and lack of inspiration are annoying obstacles. Yes, I used Zatanna as Barbara's therapist. I was going to use Raven but I don't want this story to be too laden with Titans so I think I'll just stick with using Richard and Kori. Read and Review please!


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